Almost a month later, and it still seems incomprehensible why a person would do this to another. I simply do not understand.
The days between have been filled with stories of people and what they saw that day while in the area. Things that they should not see. Things that no one should ever see. I still remember watching the events as they happened on live television. It seemed surreal, almost like watching a movie. People resort to what they can relate to. Like a child seeing fireworks for the first time, nothing compares. Instead, fireworks is slightly scary in the beginning, one learns that it is wonderful; this on the other hand, was not. But, alike a child, I wish that Superman was real.
The closest thing for the time being was a movie. But this was soon to change.
I returned to work exactly eight days later, the earliest that I was allowed back in the area. The bus made a turn as we came out of the Battery Tunnel-three short blocks from Ground Zero. I peered in disbelief. Instead of the two skyscrapers that I was accustomed to seeing, there were ruins that stood about seven stories high. What seemed like smoke rose and hovered above it all making everything appear formless. Sticking out of the ground was the partial remains of one of the outer walls of WTC2. A building across the street had a huge gash in the side around the thirtieth floor. It was like a giant standing three-hundred feet high had walked over to the building, skinned the side of it, and then stabbed it, leaving the beams protruding out marking his mark. This was no Hollywood set. This was not civilized. I had never seen anything like this before, nor do I wish to again.
I exited the bus like everyone else, in a daze. The national guards, who closely if not identically resembled the army, held posts on nearly every street corner, wearing camouflage fatigues and facemasks. Temporary metal gates were set up and we were all instructed to walk in single-file along it before proceeding deeper into the Financial District. I got stuck walking slowly behind an older person. But it didn't bother me, not today.
I looked around and noticed things were different. None of the street merchants who were usually there were present. Most of the stores were closed. All the Starbucks, the newsstands-they were all closed today and probably will be for some time. They all seemed so insignificant right now and it seemed foolish to have taken them for granted. A truck rumbled as it passed carrying twisted metal girders that measured about thirty yards in length and although sitting on its side, had the height of a one-story building.
I checked the time. It had taken me about twenty minutes to walk what would usually have taken about five minutes. The wind had picked up slightly in my direction and I smelled the most horrifying pungent odor that was indescribable-there was more in the air than just burning debris from buildings. I could not take a second breath and found myself gagging slightly wanting to vomit. I glanced over in the culpable direction in some vain attempt to try and identify what was wrong. A police officer stood tiredly donning a facemask, without saying a word, acknowledged me with empathy in his eyes.
A few ashes drifted down from the air.
| next |
